


Switchblade

by CupcakeSlave



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 09:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10761327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeSlave/pseuds/CupcakeSlave
Summary: How Moxley went from being Mox to becoming Dean Ambrose. Inspired by lines from the Gaslight Anthem song 45. “And I dance with your ghost. But that ain’t the way…I can’t move on and I can’t stay the same.”Excerpt: She’d left him. It was a year ago now that she’d gone but he still felt her presence everywhere. He still lived in the small apartment they’d shared. One of her t-shirts (old, worn and ever fading) was still hung in the wardrobe like she’d never left it behind. There was a small pile of mail stacked just inside the door, all with her name on it. He hadn’t known where to send it. The chair she’d always curled up in had been left untouched. He hadn’t so much as laid a finger on it since she’d gone. No one else had been allowed to sit on the hallowed ground she’d once occupied.





	Switchblade

**Author's Note:**

> As always cross posted to my tumblr http://lunaticbun.tumblr.com

She’d left him. It was a year ago now that she’d gone but he still felt her presence everywhere. He still lived in the small apartment they’d shared. One of her t-shirts (old, worn and ever fading) was still hung in the wardrobe like she’d never left it behind. There was a small pile of mail stacked just inside the door, all with her name on it. He hadn’t known where to send it. The chair she’d always curled up in had been left untouched. He hadn’t so much as laid a finger on it since she’d gone. No one else had been allowed to sit on the hallowed ground she’d once occupied.

Perhaps subconsciously he’d been hoping she’d come back to sit in it once more. That he should preserve it for her return. She hadn’t.

He still opens blank texts ready to tell her something about his day before remembering she doesn’t want to hear those thing any more. He still asks for her when he’s in tremendous pain. Flat out, bleeding in the ring, maybe cradling a broken limb close like a wounded dog, demanding that she come to him. She was the only one that he had allowed to take care of him. Now she was somewhere else. A different state, a different country, at this point it could be a different world.

Some mornings he still rolls over and says I love you to a ghost. He whispers sleepy nothings to the idea of a woman, like his brain is trying to work up the nerve to remind him she isn’t there any more. The Mox before he met her would have relished making him hurt for acting like he is. The Mox in the moment just wants her.

His friends try and tell him “Mox you’ve gotta get this girl outta your head.” Like it was that easy. No one had ever buried themselves so deep inside him before. How was he supposed to know how to remove her from his soul ? She’d wormed in there before he’d noticed and left just as she’d come. Quiet and unsuspecting.

To try and soothe the hurt he’d done what he’d always done. He drank and he bled. The drinking made him feel better for spells. Usually right up until the moment he woke up hungover, gradually recovering the memories of all the times he’d drunk dialled her. A robotic voice ringing in his head, telling him that her number wasn’t in service anymore.

The bleeding ? Well that’s what he did best. He was Jon motherfucking Moxley. All he dealt in was pain and blood.

The bleeding was in ways like the drinking. In the moment it made him feel alive or at least a little less dead inside but afterwards ? Oh boy it didn’t last. It made him lie still in dark rooms, picking at his wounds. Those that he’d had wrapped by a nurse with a worried face and the ones she’d left him with. It wasn’t really the image he wanted to portray, which meant he had to kick some more assholes in the dick to maintain his image and the whole cycle started again. She’d always told him he was the master of self-destruction. He was just continuing to prove her right.

“You can’t keep doing this you asshole. Other people fucking care about you. It’s shocking, I know. You can’t keep doing this. Fucking let her go already. She didn’t die, she fucked off. Let. Her. Go.” Those last words had been accompanied by vigorous shaking. Mox didn’t appreciate that. Even not hungover he wouldn’t have liked that.

So he busts Sami’s face for rattling his brain but dumb as Mox is, he knows the guy’s got a point. He can’t move on but he can’t stay the same either. That’s when the idea starts to blossom in his mind. A seed that soon grows and grows. He can’t stay the same but maybe, maybe he can change. Maybe he doesn’t need to let her go, he can keep her locked inside but change what surrounds her. Reform himself around her image. Maybe if he’s not Moxley any more she’ll come back.

It doesn’t make Sami any happier but Mox is. He feels like there’s some kinda hope again. That the hole inside that drink and smoke and blood couldn’t fill has a chance to heal over. Scar tissue collecting until it’s a real bitching scar. One more for the collection and maybe the most prized.

In that moment in time as Mox wonders who the new him is going to be, he can’t possibly imagine what he’ll become. That one day he’ll walk through the raucous crowd of a packed out arena with a mask covering his face. Two men who will become his brothers by his side. He won’t be Moxley any more. He’ll be Ambrose.

He’ll never know that she’ll be watching from afar. A place that might as well be another universe for how far away it is, and she’ll think “Where’s my wild boy gone ?” She’ll see the face of a man she once knew and not recognise him “Where’s the man that bathed in blood and kept teeth he’d loosened from his opponents head as prizes ? Where’s the man that needed me to keep him alive ?”

If he knew it might just break his heart all over again. As it goes, he’ll never find out and goes on stronger than he ever thought he could be.


End file.
